𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝

thirty one

free

there i was at eight years old, carefree and happy. The smell of pine, in the air mixing with the cool autumn breeze.

you always felt that it would take you a million years to climb. that day, was the one you climb the highest. out of sight from people, with worries and fears left at the ground. eight-year-old me looked beyond, through the tree, it's skinny branches thick with pines. the cold and refreshing wind maneuvered through them. the fall breeze kissed summer goodbye, it ran it's fingers through my messy blonde curls and turned the pages of my notebook as i looked out and down to the street hoping one day i could to have the power to choose to just keep driving, to never stop. on the journey back down to reality i got cuts and bruises, scars and blood. now i long to return to the tree high in the sky where it felt as if i was flying free.